Honoured time
by Balongdag
Summary: Left behind by their respective factions, seven mechs in disparity try to live together on their desolate planet.
1. Chapter 1

Smoke billowed, and a high powered engine whirred, heat seeping through metal as fire washed over the ground. The flame flickered, and there was heavy heaving as vents whirred to life, relieving excess smoke as they struggled to intake.

A servo twitched, and the coughing started anew. Pained shouts echoed throughout the crash site, but as metal melted and fell, the sound was washed away by the crashes and whirring of the engine.

Wings flicked back and forth, emerging out of the smoke as they tested for injuries, and to the blue jets great relief, both waggled healthily behind his back, no pains or dents presenting themselves to burden his flight.

Thundercracker groaned as he recalibrated his optics, the lenses struggling to see through the smoke and flames. His audials ached as the shuttle's engine spluttered and squealed, and he inched himself backwards.

"Skywarp!" He called, one scratched and scraped hand cradling his aching helm.

"TC!"

Thundercracker perked up, peering through the vapor to catch a glimpse of his purple trinemate. His optics squinted under the assault of smoke, and he turned away. The raspy voice sounded close, and he dragged himself to his knees. He winced at the sudden movement, a sharp pain shooting up from his pede as his processor sent urgent pings at him. Clenching his denta, the jet dragged his pede out from under his body.

A sharp piece of metal had buried itself into his ankle, and raw energon trickled from the wound, mixing with all the grime and dirt that had built up on his plating from the crash.

"Thundercracker!"

"I'll be there in a second! Are your hurt?"

There was a brief pause, "I think something happened to my wing."

Thundercracker grasped the protrusion, "Hang tight. I'll be there in a sec-AH."

He grunted as the metal slid free with a hurried jerk of his hand, and ignored Skywarps worried squawking as he tossed the metal over his shoulder. The energon flowed more freely now and trickled into the seams and crevices of his plating.

"TC!" Skywarp barked worriedly.

"I'm alright. I'll make my way over to you now."

He brought himself to his knees once more, and with the ground as his clutch heaved himself off the ground. He stumbled for a second, his wound stinging and aching in protest as he placed weight on it.

The jet winced, and lifted his injured pede, holding it gingerly over the ground as he inched forward, his pace wobbly and unsteady.

"Can you see anything?"

There was no answer and Thundercracker sighed, "Skywarp, I can't see if you're shaking your head."

"Oh, yeah. I can only see smoke, and my hands if I hold 'em really close to my face."

Thundercracker's internal fans were whirring, and his vents struggled under the pressure of clearing smoke from his intake.

As the blue jet ventured further into the crash site, he heard the familiar sounds of someone's fans clicking on high.

"I think I can see you."

"Over here."

The smoke cleared and Skywarp came into view, his purple plating faded and dinged, dented in places and torn in others. But what really made Thundercracker wince was the large foliage that had landed on one of Skywarp's splayed wings.

"Is it bad?" Skywarp joked, expression jubilantly stupid despite the situation.

"Skywarp, I don't think I can lift that."

Skywarp shrugged, "So? Just slide me out."

Thundercracker frowned, kneeling next to his trinemate as he examined the foliage. It was large, thick and wide, and had probably completely flattered Skywarps wing. Thundercracker quickly took the initiative to realize that Skywarp had turned his pain receptors off, otherwise his trinemate would probably have been screaming in agony.

What part of the wing that hadn't been flattened was torn viciously, wiring sparking and energon trickling free.

His gaze flickered to the shuttle next to them, where it was sparking, erupting fire, leaking oil and billowing smoke. It's heaving became heavier and shriller as the engine powered on and whirred faster, heat pouring from it in dense waves. Thundercrackers internal pump quickened as another bout of flame erupted from the cockpit.

He shook his head, eyes flicking between the ticking time bomb and his trinemate, "you're probably gonna hate me for this."

"Wha- Hey!"

Skywarp protested as his arm and upper body was grasped tightly by his trinemate. Thundercracker grunted as he adjusted his hold before massive arms heaved and Skywarps body inched forward, energon lines in his back tearing free from his wing as Thundercracker continued to pull. Plating tore, and Skywarp went silent as he watched his wing get torn free by his very own trinemate.

He flinched as usually delicate plating that would have caused copious amounts of agony broke away until his wing was no longer comfortably attached to his back.

Thundercracker continued to drag Skywarp across the ground, leaving a trail of their combined energon as he quickened his pace.

The shuttle shuddered, and smoke swelled upwards, sickeningly black and filling their senses with the smell of charred metal.

Thundercracker lurched backwards as the port side of the shuttle erupted in an explosion of flame and debris, sending shrapnel flying and agonizing heat in all directions. The force of the explosion sent Thundercracker reeling back, and he landed on his aft harshly.

Skywarp sat up, eyes fixated on the giant hole in the shuttle before his red optics flickered over his shoulder.

Black hands instantly flew around to his back, and he prodded at the large tear, coating his fingers in energon as he poked.

"You tore off my wing." He stated in disbelief.

Thundercrackers eyes were drawn downcast, and his own wings twitched guilty.

"You amputated my wing."

"Skywarp, even if I managed to get that thing off of you, there wouldn't have been much of your wing left anyway. Let alone enough of a wing to fly with."

"But I still would have had my wing."

Thundercracker sighed at the sulky compliant.

"I'm sorry."

"Hmph."

Skywarp stuck out a hand, and Thundercracker pulled him to his feet.

"Is anyone else here?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen any of the others around anywhere."

Skywarp cast a side-glance at the blue jet, "Neither, you think they made it?"

Thundercracker shrugged, "Probably."

"Eh, who cares anyway?"

Sideswipe woke to a burning sensation. A burning sensation that quickly worked its way up his legs to his pelvis. Where burning turned into raw pain. His optical lenses flickered to life faster than his processor, and he reared upwards, vents wheezing as he patted his chest and exhaled air.

His sight was fuzzy as he rolled to the side, his pelvis and legs still burning. He groaned, and his optics finally focused.

Fire.

"Gah!"

He patted himself down faster, black hands waving and dabbing his burning (ironically red ) plating.

The fire diminished after rolling around a couple more times, waving his hands in a ridiculous fanning motion and dousing himself in his own air exhaled from his vents.

He winced as the smoke and last of the flame cleared, revealing partially melted and sizzling plating.

He lay back, desperately thrumming at his brother as his armor throbbed.

His brother didn't return the feeling, and Sideswipe came to the conclusion that his dear yellow brother must have been unconscious.

He felt around his spark, poking at his brother to try and rouse him from his slumber or find his location.

Both would be good.

An explosion sounded in the distance, but he ignored it to instead grunt as he pulled himself into a sitting position, his lower plating completely ruined. Instead of the crimson red it usually was, his armour was charred black in places, the plating melted into creases and clumps.

Sideswipe looked away from his desecrated plating, his need to find his brother pushing him to ignore the pain and drag his body up into a standing position, where his armour creaked uncomfortably and pinched at his protoform.

"Sunny!" He called, optics doing his best to locate any hint of bright yellow through the storm of smog while he incessantly pinged his brother.

He stumbled forward, legs protesting as he stepped over and maneuvered through large foliage and debris.

Climbing onto a knocked over storage container, he stood up, coughing through the vapor as he peered into the abyss of smoke, only lit by the trail of flame from the downed shuttle.

His spark shifted uncomfortably, and Sideswipe frowned as he rubbed his casing, sending another thrum to his brother. Grogginess was beginning to seep into his being, and he jumped off the container, legs screaming at him as they almost crumpled under the impact.

"Ouch." The red twin muttered as he latched onto the container for balance, the pain ratio doubling from the jump.

He grunted as he started forward again, waving his hands around in a futile attempt to clear enough of the smoke to see more clearly.

"Hold still you Primus forsaken fraggi- Gah!"

Sideswipe halted, tilting his head as the familiar ire-filled voice attacked his audials.

He grinned, recognizing that grumpy voice anywhere.

"Ratchet!"

"What!"

"Where are you?" Sideswipe asked, swiveling his head in an attempt to catch sight of the medic.

"Behind the big orange eye-sore. And don't you touch that!"

Sideswipes grin widened as he turned and headed over to the large orange, container sitting on the ground, internally hoping that it was his brother that Ratchet was swearing at.

"Get off me your fragging Autoscum!" A new voice hissed as he neared, and Sideswipes grin fell flat as the newcomer's voice hissed and growled.

"And don't tell me what to do."

"I'm saving your aft, so I'll damn well tell you what to do when I want to, Decepticon or not."

"Ratchet?" He called again.

"Around here, kid." The medic grumbled, and Sideswipe turned the corner to find Ratchet kneeled over a large, black and yellow Decepticon, who was barring his fanged denta at Ratchet. The medic was in no one way bothered by the aggressive display and continued to work at stopping the flow of energon coming from his chassis.

Sideswipe winced at the wound and wondered how the Decepticon was still conscious. One of his finials was also bent at an odd angle, and some of his arm plating was ripped off. But those injuries weren't of Ratchets concern at that moment.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Ratchet spoke up, as if reading the red twins mind.

Sideswipe shrugged, "Have you seen Sunny, Ratch?"

"Well, considering I've had my hands buried in this fraggers internals for the last couple of breems, while trying to fix his aft with scraps that survived the crash and equipment from my own subspace, what do you think?"

The Decepticon glared, "I did not ask for your help."

Sideswipe shrank back, "I think I'll just keep looking."

He turned and left the medic and Deception to shout angrily at each other.

The frontliner trailed back to where he had left off and continued to trudge through the crash site, calling out his brother's name.

His next shout fell short as he heard two slightly familiar voices ringing out from some way away.

Sideswipe crouched, eyes wary as a clang rang out, then a snicker.

"Hey, isn't this mech a frontliner? Sunstreaker or somethin'."

"You mean the one with the twin who frequently jumps on our backs and tears at our wings?"

"That's the one."

Another snicker floated out, "Maybe we should stomp on his audial thingy. He doesn't look too damaged."

Sideswipe instantly shot up, eyes narrowed and fist clenched as he took a quick pace towards the two mechs who he had now identified as the two idiotic Decepticon seekers.

With fresh anger thrumming through him, the ache left his legs and he skidded to a halt just behind them. Barely noticing the absence of the purple one wings, his only sneered thought was to rip off the other one.

He leapt forward, not bothering with unnecessary announcements, and grabbed the purple ones wing, ripping it backwards in one smooth motion and sending him careening to the ground. The blue one whirled around, hands submissive as he glanced at his downed trinemate then back to the enraged frontliner.

"I wasn't going to do anything to him!" He quickly assured, voice slightly nervous as Skywarp groaned and began to peel himself off the ground.

Sideswipe scoffed and stepped forward, fist raised.

"Why you-" Skywarps enraged belittlement was interrupted by a sharp, tortuous scream of agonized pain as Sunstreaker reared upwards, startling the three as he shrieked. Optics bright, and faceplates twisted in a crippling affliction, he clawed with vigour at his own chassis and spark casing.


	2. Chapter 2

Sideswipe was by his brother's side in an instant, shoving past a confused Thundercracker and jumping over a shocked Skywarp. He skidded to a stop, grasping Sunstreakers hands and tearing them away from his chassis.

He ignored the indents of sharp claws and the scrapes of paint and metal where his brother had dug viciously deep and held both struggling servos in one of his own, his spark twisting and screeching from the bombardon of pain from his other half.

Sideswipe sent desperate thrums to his brother, begging him to calm down, that it was okay. Soothing pulses joined the pile, and Sideswipe flinched at the pain he was feeling from his twin.

"Sunny!" He shouted, voice laced with finely concealed panic.

His brother's shrieks broke off and he collapsed, his only brace his brother's hand that had snuck under his back to hold him up.

Suntreakers body shuddered, and his venting became short and shallow. His optics spluttered and fritzed, before fading as he lost consciousness.

Sideswipe frowned, curling his own conscience around his brothers, trying to soothe and calm the whirlwind of pain, shock and quaking fright.

The red twin leaned other his brother, internal pump quickening, his spark twisting in worry.

He wasn't a medic, he had no idea what was wrong, or why Sunstreaker was shrieking and suffering at the hands of an indescribable pain.

He glanced up, immediately noticing that the two seekers had fled the scene.

Good, he thought, one less thing he had to worry about.

As his brother's vents gave one more shuddering cough, and his EM field retreated tight to his body, Sideswipe quickly accessed his comm. unit, and was instantly greeted by the audial wrenching sound of crackling static.

Great.

Bundling his brother close, while doing his best not to jostle him, he gently lifted him into a bridal carry.

Sunstreaker groaned, face scrunching into unconcealed pain.

"It'll be alright. Ratchets here, he'll know what to do." Sideswipe reassured, mostly to himself.

"I hope." He muttered as an afterthought, fingers curling around his brothers marred paint job

Boy was he going to pitch a fit about that once he woke up, especially considering it didn't look like they would be going anywhere anytime soon. Their dilapidated planet probably wasn't holding any spare wax for his egotistical brother.

Making his way back to Ratchet was tricky, the smoke had barely cleared, and it was harder to watch where his feet were going while carrying his brother, who squirmed and groaned each time Sideswipe accidentally jostled him.

Sunstreaker whimpered as Sideswipe foot collided with a wrecked piece of shuttle foliage, causing him to stumble. He quickly caught himself, eyes worriedly scanning his brother as he straightened himself out.

"Sorry, sorry." He muttered guiltily.

After avoiding a couple more scattered obstacles, the familiar orange container came into view once more, but the angry swears and bickering were mysteriously absent.

"Ratchet?" He called, hoping the medic was still there.

"Still here." The CMO answered, voice much less irritated than it was a couple of breems ago.

Sideswipe found the medic flat on his aft as he sorted through various medical equipment, grumbling to himself as he divided and categorized his small collection of tools. The Decepticon he had been treating was gone, a dried puddle of energon the only clue of his staying.

Sideswipe swallowed nervously, and gently lowered his brother to the ground, and got a panicked burst from his other half as he did.

He kept his hand on his brother's chest, reassuring him he was there with a short pulse of his own.

Satisfied, the yellow twin settled again, his venting still short and raspy. The noise didn't pass Ratchet, and his head snapped up, blue optics narrowing in on the source.

He pulled himself to his feet, scanner already phasing over Sunstreaker.

"What happened?"

Sideswipe shrugged, hands twiddling together nervously, "I found him unconscious near the dumb purple jet and the other blue one, and he just started to scream…"

Sideswipe trailed off, frown marring his usually cheerful face, "Ratchet, he sounded like he was in a lot of pain."

Ratchet switched off the scanner, face grim.

"It's no wonder," He started, kneeling down to Sunstreakers level.

Sideswipe folded his arms, looking expectantly at the medic as he trailed off.

"It's shrapnel. A whole lot of it too." Ratchet said grimly.

"From the shuttle exploding?"

"Must have been, was he close to it when you found him?"

Sideswipe nodded, face downtrodden, "I thought there would have been some sort of entry mark? I couldn't see anything."

"That's because you're not looking hard enough. Sunstreaker, unfortunately, got the brunt of the hit, and all the shrapnel that did hit him was small. You can see here, though, in-between the seams, they've gotten in through parts of his exposed protoform." Ratchet explained, pointing carefully to where small entry wounds were leaking energon, and trickling in between seams.

"Well, if there that small it shouldn't cause too much damage, right?"

Ratchet shook his head, "The opposite, actually. These little metal pieces will make their way through his internals until they reach his spark. And it will be a slow journey, it could take cycles or deca-cycles for the shrapnel to reach his spark."

"Well, that's a good thing right?"

Ratchet shrugged, fiddling with the clasps to Sunstreakers armor, "I suppose, it'll be painful, and it'll be better for him and easier for me if he stays unconscious. But removing the shrapnel without the proper equipment and monitoring systems will be difficult."

Sideswipe scowled, "Why can't we just contact the ark? I mean it won't take to long for someone to come get us."

Ratchet sighed, face uncharacteristically worried, "Sideswipe, we came here through the space bridge. The Decepticon space bridge. You know how long it took to hitch a ride without getting caught. And we certainly didn't expect the Decepticons to be using it at the exact same time we would, hence the crash. I mean look at the tower, look at the space bridge."

Sideswipe followed the medic's gaze, filching at the smoking remains of both factions shuttles, and the space bridge that sat destroyed on top of the large tower.

"Well, then what are we going to do? You can't just let Sunny's spark gutter."

Ratchet raised a hand, "I'm not. We'll just have to gather all the equipment we have, and do our best to scavenge whatever we can from the ships."

Sideswipe rose to his feet, nodding fast.

"Hold on, first we have to get your brother somewhere safe, and away from all this smoke. Who knows what those Decepticons will try."

The two found a comfortable place to lay low in the lobby of an old, rusting building. Its windows were shattered, and the door completely knocked off, but the inside was sheltering enough. Dirty and destroyed, but shelter.

They had settled Sunstreaker behind the large reception desk, and Sideswipe watched with worried eyes as Ratchet stripped off the last of Sunstreakers upper armor, his scarred protoform revealed to the cool air.

Sideswipe had then left Ratchet to scan and poke at his brother's protoform, trusting the medic to take care of his twin, and leaving the building to forage for equipment, and energon.

By the time he had found the crash site again, the smoke had cleared and the fire died, leaving Sideswipe to search through the burnt and rattling shuttles with much more ease. Prowl was still nowhere to be found, and Sideswipe felt slightly guilty for forgetting about the second in command. He shook the thought away and settled on searching for him while he looked for supplies.

He started with his own faction's shuttle, his first step into the ship met with creaking and shaking. The red twin grimaced as he lowered his other foot, and ducked his head to avoid colliding with hanging wires and loose foliage.

The cockpits glass screen was shattered, and Sideswipe grimly deduced that that was where Prowl must have been catapulted through it. Sideswipe frowned as he examined it, and then peered out of the screen, hoping to catch a glimpse of the second in command. His optics caught nothing, and he frowned, quickly backtracking and using the hole in the side of the shuttle as an easy exit once he had gathered as many gauzes, tape and a number of other medical equipment (that Sideswipe did not know the name of) as he could.

The Decepticon shuttle held even less equipment, but still contained a few undamaged energon cubes that Sideswipe subspaced with a sigh of relief. Low rationing would become a serious problem the longer they were stranded.

He left the shuttle quickly, not wanting to run into a fight if the other Decepticons returned. As much as would love to dish out some punches to the other faction, his brother was his first priority.

His next stop was to the front of the Autobots shuttle, where he stood in confusion for a couple klicks when he caught no sight of Prowl in the immediate area, where he expected him to land when he was flung out of the shuttle.

He checked behind containers and foliage, under scraps that had fallen off the shuttle, but still nothing. With his chronometer not functioning properly, he had no idea what time it was, or for how long he had been looking, but the renewed ache of his leg made him reluctantly turn back, guilt in his eyes as he limped his way back to the building they had bunkered down in.

Nothing had changed since he left. Ratchet was still leaning over his brother, face drawn into something of perplexity.

"Uh, everything okay?" Sideswipe asked, not liking the look on the medic's face.

"Well, I can see some shrapnel that is still near the surface, but there just still too hot to remove. But, I did find some exit wounds on his back and arms, and I stitched those up easily."

"Okay, well that doesn't sound too bad."

Ratchet sighed, "I suppose not. But there is also the threat of infection. But anyway, what'd you get?"

"Uh, here." The red twin said as he dumped the medical equipment he had gathered on the floor.

"And, I found some energon cubes!" He continued cheerfully, ignoring the annoyed look Ratchet shot him as he gathered up the dropped equipment, instead pulling the cubes out from subspace and offering one to the medic.

"Thanks. We'll have to conserve these for as long as possible, so be careful."

"Yessir."

Silence fluttered down on the two of them, and Sideswipe, for once, enjoyed it as

he settled himself down next to the medic, back resting comfortably to the desk.

But, after a while of basking in the surprisingly relaxed air, the good feeling left him as quickly as it came, and he shifted nervously, "I, uh," He started, "Couldn't find Prowl."

Prowl woke to the uncomfortable sensation of something sharp digging into his back. His door wings were bent at an uncomfortable angle, and a throbbing ache made itself present as soon as his processor snapped into gear.

With a groan, a tired black hand was lifted to feel around at his surroundings. Something sharp poked at his servo, and he quickly withdrew, optics powering online as he glanced to the side. Glass was littered around his body, the tiny shards glittering in the light and covering the majority of the gray floor.

He grimaced, back aching as he shifted uncomfortably, the glass beneath him catching his seams and cutting at his energon lines.

He grunted as he forced his stiff body to move, glass lodging itself deeper and scraping at his back as he pulled himself into a sitting position. The second in command shuddered, and shook his back, dislodging some of the glass and listening lazily as it cascaded down onto the ground, echoing around the quiet room.

Prowl glanced up, finally taking in his surroundings. A small office, with only one smashed window, presumably the one he had come through.

With one last grunt, his feet found balance and the rest of his body came with him as he heaved himself up, head thumping in the uncomfortable sensation of a migraine.

A migraine was the least of his worries at this point, and he instead turned to the face the smashed window, shuffling closer to it and peering down below.

His vents hitched a breath at the height.

The ground looked especially tiny from here, and he glanced further, seeing the smoking remains of two shuttles and the damage it had caused.

He took a step back, seeing no fire escape or any means that would help him climb down.

So, he turned to the door of the office instead.

It was barricaded by an old, worn out desk, with miscellaneous items strewn over it, a futile attempt to keep someone out.

Prowl ignored the groaning of the building as he made his way toward it, footsteps as light as possible as he slowly made his way across, servo stretched out to attempt to use the input screen that would open it.

The scanner didn't flash at him, and the door stayed tightly closed.

Plan B then, second in command thought as he wedged his black fingertips in-between the small gap beside the door, and pulled. The metal squealed, but stayed put, and Prowl let go with a huff.

Stuck, in a tiny office, with only a window as his escape, a couple of stories high, and in the most unstable building on Cybertron.

Just his luck.

'Luck has nothing to do with it.' He reminded himself, cerebral circuits scrambling to latch on to logic and push away this unexpected turn of events.


	3. Chapter 3

Watching their old, desolate planet continue to putter on in eternal darkness was not nearly as satisfying as watching the sunrise on Earth. Appreciating the sights was usually Sunstreakers forte, but Sideswipe found himself missing the planets first lights and the abundance of colours that would wash over the sky as the sun snuck up on the horizon.

Cybertron instead offered a dreary show of darkness. Once towering buildings now sat rusted and burnt, and the crumbling remains of others decorated the cracked and charred ground. But for all of Earths cryptic displays of natural phenomena, Sideswipe still missed Cybertron. Maybe not some of the particular mechs that once inhabited it, but the planet was home.

War had done a number on the planet, and Sideswipe struggled to remember the days where Cybertron glowed and basked in shimmering lights from all over. Kaon offered seedy neon signs, while Vos flashed with an unwavering radiance and Praxus threw thriving crystals that glistened softly. But the planet paid its price, and as war-raved on, it became indestructible, plowing through anything in its path and eventually reducing Cybertron into an unliveable metal sphere.

Sideswipe frowned, remembering some of his first days on the frontline. How they would hunker down and listen to the cacophonous sound of bombs and artillery exploding. They eventually grew used to it, and the sound instead lulled into a litany, their audials accustomed and much hardier.

He shook his head and switched off his comm. unit, sick of listening to the crackling of static that had been droning into his audials for the last couple of breems, his processor finally giving in to the fact that nobody would be answering for some time. But still, there was nothing better to do than to hold onto that wisp of hope that something would get through, Prime, Jazz, Blaster, heck Sideswipe would even welcome Gears at this point.

A cycle of laying low, and getting aching joints due to lack of movement, really brought the desperation out of the red mech. Sitting still was never his area of expertise. But he wasn't a mech to give in easily either, so he ducked his head, clenched his fists and pushed on.

There was a heavy intake of breath and a heaving cough that brought Sideswipe attention back to the present.

Sunstreaker.

The one thing that was bothering him more than boredom, or the worry that he would be stuck on this planet.

As Ratchet had predicted, an infection had assaulted Sunstreakers system, which wasn't a surprise given the lack of proper medical supplies to safely remove the shrapnel slowly making its way through the yellow twin's internals.

Another throb of worry pulsed through his spark, and he pulled himself to his feet, away from his designated look out corner to instead drag himself over to his brother, who was wheezing, a cold sheen of lubricant dripping down the front liners faceplates.

"Can I do anything?" He asked tentatively, face drawn into a rarely seen, albeit reserved worry.

Ratchet frowned, his hands gently dabbing his brother's forehead, cleaning away the light sheen across his face.

"I could send you out looking for supplies I suppose, but fat lot it's done for us so far."

Sideswipe shook his head, "I could go out further this time, search more thoroughly."

"Sideswipe, we still have three Decepticons out doing Primus knows what."

"So? I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself."

Ratchet scowled, tossing the cloth to the ground as he stood to face the impulsive twin, "Your legs still aren't repaired properly."

"I can walk fine," Sideswipe muttered, face twisting to match the medics own expression.

"Yes, but can you fight? What if all three of them came at you?"

Sideswipe shrugged, "Two of them are injured, so I think I'd have a fair shot."

Ratchet threw his hands up, scowl twisting into a grimace as he turned, "Fine, fine! Go, just don't come crawling back here half dead."

The frontliner grinned toothily, "Sure thing, Ratch."

"And don't," The medic grumbled, "Call me that."

"Sure thing, Ratchy!"

Sideswipe ducked out of the lobby just in time to dodge an empty Energon cube. A poor substitute for his usual wrench, but much less painful.

Venturing further than the ruins of the shuttles and beyond was much more exciting, and Sideswipe found a skip to his step as he maneuvered through old alleyways and ducked into crumbled buildings.

Kaon, despite been as ravished by war as the rest of the cities, was still distinctly… Kaon.

Sideswipe grimaced. The city really didn't hold any pleasant memories for him or his brother. Spilt spark twins were considered, abominations by all accounts. Yelled at, experimented on, kicked out of places and ridiculed, just for being different.

The frontliner scowled, foot jerking out angrily to hit a patch of gravel. Sideswipe watched the rocks scatter with satisfaction until his leg throbbed in indignation and his face twisted into one of pain.

"Great."

He continued to trudge through old streets, the place barely recognizable from what it used to be.

Sideswipe silently wondered if the tales of Primus throwing the 'demons in the darkness' into the sewers, or somewhere deep underground, was true. If they had emerged again after the planet fell into solitude and silence.

The frontliner huffed a laugh at the thought.

Supplies were minimal, and Sideswipe had hardly found anything worthwhile to subspace, let alone anything to help aid his brother. The buildings were cleaned out, old artillery machines had held some old rations, but nothing much else. But still, the rusted out machines were a sight to see.

"Wow," He muttered as he ran a servo over the rough exterior of the machine. Canons that were long out of juice were drooped over, and the larger machines, the ones that were run by mechs, held rusted bodies that Sideswipe didn't bother lingering around for too long. Riffling through their subspace proved worthwhile, however, and Sideswipe managed to fish out a basic first aid kit, and a white plasma knife. One that had probably once glowed fantastically. The frontliner held it between two fingers, spun it around his servo, and then subspaced it with a grin.

Old guns were also discovered under foliage, out of power and crushed. Sideswipe wondered exactly who had fought here, and if they were still alive.

His only answer was his own shrug, and he continued to amble on, optics sharp. He ventured further and further into the ruins of the city, ducking under knocked buildings and easily jumping over foliage. His only real difficulties laid within the amount of rumble that had built up over time, and he found it slightly difficult to climb and scale with his injured legs. But he managed all the same and tried his best to ignore the sharp burning sensation that was now assaulting his legs every time he made a particularly jarring fall.

The frontliner jumped over the last bit of blockage, and his optics were immediately drawn to a sight he thought he had left behind long ago.

His pedes had seemingly taken him to the lower part of Kaon, and in between the alleyways and the tight-knit apartment complexes and buildings, was a familiar large stairway, crumbled and dark, but familiar.

Spark thumping with surfacing memories, he jogged down, hesitation left behind as his steps echoed into the darkness.

Despite his low energy reservoirs protesting, he switched on his headlights and instantly found it easier to walk down the steps with light at his aid.

He wondered lower, taking in the small abandoned medical zones, where supplies had been stripped clean long ago. Training rooms with dried energon stains on the floor were dust ridden, an old bar stood in ruins, and finally, in the deepest part of the establishment, was the arena. With the large fences, and empty stadiums where mechs screamed and whistled crudely as their favorite gladiator tore into their opponent.

The frontliner stood, taking in the place that Sunstreaker claimed was 'for mechs like us. We fit in here.'

They didn't, but they weren't targeted for being twins if they fought well and earned credits. And fought well they did, until the gladiator from Tarn, had ripped into his brother and gone in for the brutal kill. I guess it's what tipped them over the scale, when Optimus stepped in, brandishing his axe in all of his holy glory.

Sideswipe scoffed and stepped into the arena. A weird and unfamiliar sensation when you weren't holding a weapon and mechs weren't looking down on you.

Before he could waver on the subject much more, his proximity sensors perked up, and his battle programming burst to life. He crouched, switching off his headlights and unsubspacing his gun, before thinking better of it and instead unsheathing his arm blades, optics spiraling in an attempt to adjust to the sudden darkness.

There was a crunch. A footstep. And then a snarl and gunshot echoed around the arena, missing Sideswipe by an iota of space as he ducked and rolled, ending right in the middle of the cage.

"Frag." He cursed softly, and backtracked carefully, relaxing marginally when his back met the wall.

Another gunshot echoed out, but the aim was wild, and Sideswipe used the flash of light to sprint to his opponent, only illuminated for a second, before the red frontliner was crashing into him. They tumbled to the ground, snarling and cursing.

Sharp claws dug into his seams, drawing energon. Sideswipe bit his lip at the sharp pain, and lodged his own fingers into the mech's armour, attempting to placate the struggling enough for him to gain the upper hand. A leg kneed him in the stomach, and Sideswipe snarled, bringing his head down to smash into the mechs nasal ridge. The mech howled in outrage, bucking in an angered haze. He threw Sideswipe off him, and the frontliner cursed, bringing his headlights back on.

Deadlock ducked out of sight, fist flying back in to deliver a nasty right hook. It was blocked, then parried, as Sideswipe offered his own punch. His fist collided with something, but another blow was delivered and Sideswipe optics fritzed as the servo collided with his temple. He backtracked, pile drivers replacing his blades, and with a nasty grin, collided with the Decepticons finials, squashing the already dented one, and popping the other one. The screech of pain was a familiar one, but the lurch in his direction was not, and Sideswipe had no time to react as sharp fangs dug into the exposed protoform under his neck. He yelled, hands finding themselves around the Decepticons neck, and squeezing as the denta ripped into his protoform. His knee found the injured hole in his stomach, but Deadlock didn't let up, and Sideswipe squeezed harder, his owned servos digging and ripping into the Decepticons neck. They stumbled, landing hard on their backs as Sideswipe brought them into a roll, shoving Deadlock off him in the process. He ignored the energon dribbling from his neck, and without hesitation, brought his piledriver down right onto the Decepticons faceplates, breaking his nasal ridge with a sickening crack.

The piledriver came down once more as Deadlock attempted to lurch up again, and he finally dropped limped.

Sideswipe intaked deeply, servo going to his neck, where two sharp puncture wounds around his ripped protoform were oozing energon. It dripped onto his servo, trickling through his fingers and escaping down his shoulder.

Ratchet was going to kill him.

He grimaced at the Decepticon, his wound had been reopened, and his faceplates were dented and disfigured from his pile drivers. He leaned over him, fingers expertly pickpocketing his subspace. His servos found nothing, and the frontliner frowned.

Maybe he was hording his supplies somewhere else, in case something like this happened.

He brought himself to his feet and winced. His gaze found the Decepticon once more, and he sighed, leaning down on his haunches once more. He may have been a dirty fighter, nasty on the battlefield, some sort of a cheat, and a mech with a brutal hit. But he was still an Autobot.

Which is what he kept reminding himself as his servos found the other mechs armpits, and he began to drag.


End file.
